I was born in the wagon of a travellin' show
My mama used to dance for the money they'd
throw Papa would do whatever he could
Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of
Doctor Good

CHORUS Gypsys, tramps, and thieves We'd
hear it from the people of the town They'd call
us Gypsys, tramps, and thieves But every night
all the men would come around And lay their
money down

Picked up a boy just south of Mobile Gave
him a ride, filled him with a hot meal I was
sixteen, he was twenty-one Rode with us to
Memphis And papa woulda shot him if he
knew what he'd done

CHORUS

I never had schoolin' but he taught me well
With his smooth southern style Three months
later I'm a gal in trouble And I haven't seen him
for a while, uh-huh I haven't seen him for a
while, uh-huh

She was born in the wagon of a travellin' show
Her mama had to dance for the money they'd
throw Grandpa'd do whatever he could
Preach a little gospel, sell a couple bottles of
Doctor Good

CHORUS CHORUS FADES